


One More Song Before I Go

by thelilacfield



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Light Angst, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Rescue Missions, Revelations, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 12:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6905365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelilacfield/pseuds/thelilacfield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Steve breaks his team out of prison with the intention of flying straight to safety in Wakanda, he doesn't expect to have to head back to the Avengers compound for his teammates to say goodbye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One More Song Before I Go

In the corner of the sleepy diner, the jukebox drowsily plays the plaintive notes of old country songs, whispering finely-spun stories of lost love and regrets. The tables are sticky no matter how many times the waiter wipes every surface down with a carefully dampened rag, and his customers are half-asleep over their food, the scent of coffee a constant on the air and the sleepy town beginning to awake outside, the rumbling of engines shaking off the night's quiet. Dreaming of the soft mattress that awaits him at the end of the shift, the waiter - small plastic badge identifying him _Declan_ \- looks up when the bell over the door rings, welcoming in a tall, broad-shouldered man. He looks no different to the other people who seek out the diner at this time of the morning - baseball cap pulled low over tired eyes, well-loved and worn hoodie, approaching the counter with a smothered yawn and asking for, "a black coffee, a cappuccino, a jasmine tea and a hot chocolate, please."

"Friends staying over?" Declan asks in his brightest customer service voice, and the customer gives a small smile. "I'll be right back. That'll be twelve dollars and thirty cents." He gets a twenty dollar bill and told to keep the change, and smiles to himself, turning to the machine already spitting out steam and determined to show how efficient he can be.

Carefully guarding the edges of the cardboard tray with his hands, the heat of the drinks warming his hands in the cold morning, Steve Rogers keeps his head down as he crosses the road and quickly navigates a series of side streets with quick turns, sharply aware of his surroundings, until he comes to the graffiti-covered metal door, the back alley thick with the smell of trash, and shoulders it open. Following the fire escape, careful not to make any noise, he finds the window with the curtains firmly closed and lifts a hand to his ear, pressing on the small communications device resting there. "Nightfall," he says, a word that would mean nothing to anyone tracking their signal, and the curtains withdraw to a pale face haloed by shockingly red hair, and the window creaks open for him to climb inside.

Pulling the device from her ear and wrapping it in a thick towel before placing it on the shelf, Natasha runs a hand through her hair and wryly remarks, "Quite a performance for a cup of coffee." Steve cracks a small smile, and sets the four cups down on the low coffee table, taking his seat next to a pile of files and cracking the lid off the hot chocolate.

"Well, we are criminals wanted for a wide array of actions," Sharon says, kicking her feet up on the arm of the couch and continuing to tap at the monitor of her laptop. "I'd hate to get arrested just because we wanted a drink."

"Any progress?" Natasha asks, so casually, as if they're not four fugitives hiding out in the unoccupied apartment of a family on vacation for Christmas, spending the festive season constantly looking over their shoulders, expecting the military to be bearing down on them.

Sighing, Sharon shakes her head, sitting upright and glaring at the laptop screen. "This would've been a lot easier before I was fired," she says, and Natasha gives a soft breath of a laugh. "I hate to say it, but this might be something we just can't do."

"We have to," Steve says, forceful, and Natasha turns to lay a soothing hand on his arm. The aftermath of the fighting still runs through him, she can see it, the anger that's been repressed for so long now lingering just below the surface. It's as if he's taken all the anger Bucky should be feeling on his own shoulders, filled with vengeance and fury while Bucky sits in silence, one sleeve of his jacket hanging empty. "I won't leave them there. It's my fault, and it's my responsibility to get them out."

"You're lucky you weren't arrested as soon as you were back on American soil," Sharon says pointedly, and Steve slumps back into the armchair, brooding. "We have transport if nothing else. We can always try just punching our way in."

"No, any random jet won't get clearance to land, and we need that to get in," Natasha says, and they turn to look at her. "I've had dealings with the Raft before, when I was the one putting criminals in cells and not the one they wanted in there. Ross has to personally tell the guards who to let in, and I doubt anything vaguely associated with any of us will make it. Even To-" She stops abruptly, lowering her eyes to the surface of her coffee, and the silence stretches out with tension. "Well, Ross isn't exactly looking on superheroes favourably at the moment. If we want in, we need to find another way."

They fall into quiet again, the sounds familiar since Steve contacted Natasha and Sharon and offered a safe house for a few days, and asked for help. There's the whisper of pages against each other as Steve flips through files, the tapping of Sharon's fingers on her keyboard and Bucky's unsteady breathing.

It takes several hours - marked only by the changing of the light behind the closed curtains - but finally Sharon sucks in a sharp breath, and three heads immediately turn to her. "You've found something?" Steve asks urgently, and the hint of a smile plays at the corners of her mouth.

"You might be able to break in through the vents," she says, and turns the screen to show what appears to be a picture of incomprehensible lines. "But it will still be underwater when you're breaking in, and with our ties to agencies cut I don't know if we'll be able to get the necessary equipment."

"Fury owes me a favour, we could try appealing to him," Natasha suggests, but Steve shakes his head. Instead, he reaches for the remote and the television flickers to life, turned to the news channel that they try to watch every day, searching for news of the aftermath they caused. The story of the battle dubbed the clash of the Avengers by the media is still a hot topic, and they all wince at the pictures of the airport being repaired, the announcement that Colonel James Rhodes has been released from hospital and was last seen getting into a private car with Tony Stark, presumably to return to the former Avengers compound, the reporter announcing that America is still on the hunt for Captain Steve Rogers, James Buchanan Barnes and Natasha Romanoff.

When the reporters announces a live interview with King T'Challa of Wakanda, they all lean forward eagerly, seeing him standing diplomatic and put-together. The reporter asks about his feelings on the breakdown of the Avengers team, and Natasha hides a smile when T'Challa answers, "With half their team imprisoned, there could not be anything but a breakdown." When the inevitable question about Zemo arrives, T'Challa's eyes darken and he says, "The criminal faces charges from many people who have lost loved ones due to his actions in Vienna. He is currently held under the supervision of the CIA and will face trial in the coming months," and nods with anger blazing in his eyes when the reporter asks if he will be attending the trial. But, notably, when asked about his feelings on the three fugitives, he skims over the question, and Steve smiles.

"We've been offered asylum in Wakanda," he says, and the silence of shock lasts for a full minute. "After Siberia, T'Challa was the one who brought us home, distracting the media with Zemo for long enough that we could start running. Wakanda would be an ideal place to disappear, now that we're all criminals. The Accords will pass, and people who want to stay will stay. But we can be another team, we can keep operating on our own judgement. He will protect us."

Natasha just shakes her head in disbelief, but a smile flickers on her face. "For all of us?" she asks, and Steve nods. "So this was your plan when you came back? Find me, find Sharon, find out how to break into the Raft, rescue the rest of the team and on to Wakanda?"

"There were a few days of freaking out first," Bucky says suddenly, and grins like the man he once was, and Sharon laughs loudly. "But that's the gist of it."

"And it's all coming together nicely," Sharon says, remarkably cheerful. "If we can use Wakandan tech to break into the Raft and rescue Scott, Sam, Clint and Wanda, we'll be in a perfect position to go on to Wakanda. Even if not all of them want to join us, they could sign the Accords and become part of the legal Avengers. All we need is a way to get into the middle of the ocean."

"Now that can be the favour I call in from Fury," Natasha says with a trace of the old assassin's smirk.

* * *

"Does the weather around here know that this is the site of a maximum security prison for superheroes?" Sharon shouts over the roar of the rain pounding against the quinjet, and Natasha shrugs, busy strapping herself into a parachute as Steve runs considering hands over the wide array of weapons Fury provided them with.

Loading guns into her holsters, Natasha plants a hand on Bucky's shoulder and leans over to the pilot controls, squinting through the raindrops chasing each other around the windshield at the bleak grey sky, lightning crackling through the cover. "Wish we could contact Thor and ask him to tone it down a little," she says, and a slight hint of laughter shines through Steve's soldier's mask. He looks different without the shield on his back, only fists and guns to protect himself, and the frightening thought of the advantage they've lost lingers at the back of Natasha's mind. But she forces herself to push it down, and tightens the straps on her parachute again, stopping her fingers from shaking.

"Nervous?" Bucky asks lightly, looking up at her as he brings the quinjet to a halt, the navigation panel indicating they're in the right place even though there's nothing below them but bleak churning waves.

"Not at all," she replies, just as light, and hits the button for the door to begin lowering. "I've broken into maximum security prisons to rescue my friends while trying not to get arrested myself a hundred times before."

"Just another day as a superhero," Steve jokes, and tosses her another gun. "Let's try not to cause permanent damage to any of the guards."

"Don't forget to take out the cameras first," Sharon says, tapping on her communications device as she gives them both one last check. "You'll be called in quickly, so time is of the essence. Call it in as soon as you have them out and we'll be waiting."

"We know the plan, Sharon," Natasha says, a slow smirk growing on her face. "And I happen to know none of our former teammates were happy about Ross shoving Avengers in here. I doubt Stark will try too hard to get here in time to stop us." The name still hangs like a sting in the silence, and it's a moment before they all clear their heads, Natasha and Steve approaching the opening and Sharon settling back into her chair.

Steve takes her hand briefly, squeezes it reassuringly. "You ready for this?" he asks, then grins and tumbles backwards out of the quinjet, her reply lost to the howling winds and the freezing rain that hits them like needles.

The water is colder than she expected, and she's grateful for the drysuit protecting her, for the reassurance of Steve's breathing rattling through their oxygen devices in her ear. The vents are waiting for them, the light of the laser they were provided searingly bright in the dark waters, and the tunnels are narrow and tightly wound, and for a moment she's terrified that they won't make it, they'll be lost forever in darkness and uncertainty. But then something gives way beneath them, and they fall into a mercifully empty room, both soaking wet and gasping with endurance, and Steve chokes out, "Cameras," seconds before an alarm begins to blare.

"Shit," Steve swears, and Natasha spits something far harsher in Russian, leaping to her feets as guards flood into the room, already firing tranquilising darts from her guns, dodging a bullet and kicking an assailant in the face. Bullets for the cameras, and they can breathe, surrounded by sleeping bodies, able to climb out of their drysuits and take a moment.

Finally, he stands straight and looks around, and Sharon's voice comes through the com-link. "They're being held in the centre," she says, and both Natasha and Steve immediately start moving, guns poised at their sides, shooting cameras as they come across them and knocking out the guards who come at them in waves like those lashing the sides of the prison. Unsurprisingly, the entrance to the room where the Avengers are being held is heavily guarded, and Natasha takes particular pleasure in knocking out every guard in a less humane way than tranquilising darts, reminded that both she and Steve would be in here too if they hadn't run.

When Sharon tells them the codes to open the doors, both are horrified by what they see. The circle of cells, some unoccupied, and Natasha breathes, "These were ready for all of us if we refused to sign. This isn't just because of the fighting." Steve nods, teeth tightly gritted, and they check the corridors behind them one last time, listening for footsteps, before they move forward, and nausea rises in Natasha's throat when she sees these people who became so familiar to her locked away like the criminals they've fought together. Sam paces around his cell like an animal held in a zoo, Clint's lips move as he mumbles vaguely to himself, Scott taps out a monotonous rhythm like a heartbeat on his stool and Wanda breaks Natasha's pieced-together heart, bound and gagged and slumped against the wall of her cell.

"What the fuck is she doing here?" Scott snaps when he notices her, and she glares back just as furiously, putting her guns back into their holsters and crossing the room to Clint's cell.

"She's on our side," Steve tells him, and slices through the bars on Sam's cell, pulling him into a tight hug as he steps out. "I don't know what to say. I am so sorry that I landed you in this mess."

"Don't worry about it," Clint says, stretching and giving Steve a ghost of a smile. "We had an idea of what we were signing up for. And we knew you'd come through for us." He hugs Natasha his embrace firm and reassuring, and she lets herself feel peaceful for the first time since this whole mess started.

"So do we have a plan?" Scott asks, throwing his stool at the wall with a grim smile and standing to join the slowly assembling team. "Does it involve swimming?"

"We have to get to the control room, override the controls and call in our ride," Steve explains, and Natasha looks up to see Scott's face twist in disbelief. "We have guns and fists and Sharon and Bucky waiting in the quinjet to pick us up."

"Sounds easy," Clint quips, and Natasha hides her laughter in his shoulder. Steve grins at him, and brandishes the laser one last time to slice through the bars on Wanda's cell, dropping to his knees at her side with the kind of expression a distressed father would wear.

"What the hell were they doing to you in here?" he asks, anger darkening his eyes to the stormy blue of the sky on a cold night.

"After we surrendered, military took our suits, had us all in too many chains and brought us here in armoured vans," Sam explains, joining Steve in the cell to break the bindings on Wanda, her eyes wounded and pleading above the gag. "Put us each in a different room for interrogation, we all refused to say anything, they got angry, shoved us in here." Looking down at the bindings Steve is grimly picking apart, he adds, "Wanda here is the only one of us who could destroy this whole place without a suit."

Raising her freed hand, Wanda rips the gag off, her eyes red and the scarlet tendrils of her power slithering around her fingertips. "Believe me, I will," she says, and a spurt of magic shoots from her hand. "Control room compromised."

Scott laughs gleefully, and slings an arm around her. "I knew there was a reason you're my daughter's favourite," he says, and Wanda smiles. Looking around at his team, Steve grins, and they begin running as alarms blare through the facility, and Natasha calls for the quinjet with remarkable calm as she takes down a guard with a well-aimed kick to the head. The thought worms its way into the back of Steve's mind that they'll have to practice more hand-to-hand combat, with their suits in military custody, and is quickly gone as another wave of guards comes bearing down on them, and they have to fight every step of the way to the exit and the quinjet hovering, waiting for the guards to clear.

"We can't take down every single guard, Steve!" Sam bellows over the noise, and Steve turns to Wanda, fighting a few feet away, and simply nods to her.

She understands, and the net of her magic cocoons all six of them, and they shoot upwards and into the open door of the quinjet, and Steve gasps, "Drive!" and they shoot into the sky, far away from the rattle of gunfire and the alarms wailing out the loss.

"Holy shit," Clint gasps from where he's sprawled on the floor. "That was dramatic." Sharon twists in her seat to look at him, and rolls her eyes at the sight of six superheroes lying on the floor of the quinjet and looking like they might never move again. "So where to now?"

"Avengers compound," Natasha says, righting herself and taking a seat in a smooth move that would not suggest they were punching their way out of a maximum security prison less than a minute ago.

"What?!" Steve rockets to his feet at the revelation, staring at Natasha with wide eyes and clenched fists. "We can't go back there! No, we have to go to Wakanda, if we go back to the compound they'll arrest us!"

"I'm not eager to repeat that performance again, Steve, but I have to give this jet back to Fury," Natasha says pointedly, staring him down. "If we go now the focus will be on four prisoners breaking out of the Raft, and hopefully the media won't catch up for at least twelve hours so we have time to get in and out. Tony won't let cameras near the place anyway while Rhodes is recovering."

"You're insane!" Steve shouts, and turns to look at the others slowly getting to their feet and finding chairs. "Tell her we can't go back to the compound."

"I wouldn't mind," Scott pipes up, and Natasha turns to give him a smile. "I'd like to have a word with Fury about getting my family off the grid, at least until this mess straightens itself out." Clint nods solemnly, thinking the same thing.

"I think you should at least speak to Stark before you retreat," Sharon says, and Steve turns a glare on her. "You don't all have to go in. Just anyone who wants to speak to someone before you head on to Wakanda. You only need to be there as long as it takes to swap to another aircraft."

Looking around the quinjet for anyone looking back at him with the same reservations, Steve sighs and asks, "Is everyone in favour of stopping off at the compound before heading to Wakanda?" His team nods, and he leans back in his chair. "Then to the compound it is."

* * *

The pounding rain has cleared into pearly mists as they descend towards the compound, the landing stirring Wanda and Scott from sleep, Sam from his reading, Steve from brooding contemplation. Fury is waiting for them on the lawn, dark coat billowing around him, and he fixes each of them with a stern gaze as they emerge from the depths of the quinjet. "I hope you all know the shit you've gotten us into."

"Oh shut your mouth, Fury, you wouldn't have given Nat the jet if you weren't interested in getting us out," Clint says with a raised eyebrow and a wry smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth, and Fury just shakes his head. "Where's our ride onwards?"

"In the hangar out back," Natasha says, looking up at the building that was her home for a year, and in a matter of days has become just another place she has to turn her back on. "But we have maybe an hour before we have to keep moving."

"I'd love a cup of coffee," Scott says from the back of the jet, and several people duck their heads to hide smiles at Steve's expressive rolling of his eyes. Infuriatingly, Fury appears to find it funny, and shepherds them into the compound without a moment of consideration.

The mansion seems so much bigger when the rooms are empty, and there's a stab of regret for those who will be leaving the place behind after calling it home for a year. After a long moment of terrible silence, Tony emerges from the kitchen, a mug of coffee clutched in one hand, and there's a pregnant pause. "Stark," Steve finally says, with a stiffly polite nod.

"Rogers," comes the equally formal reply. Tony stares down the four recent prisoners, eyes searching out the scars of their imprisonment, and looks back at Steve, "Ross called to tell me there'd been a breach at the Raft."

"And what did you do about it?" Steve asks, standing in his usual fighting pose, looking ready to protect the team behind him,

"I actually put him on hold until he hung up," Tony says. The silence holds until he smiles, and Scott starts to laugh, and the tension is broken. "Glad to see you made it out, team." Though they're all still on edge, and the things that go unsaid linger at the edges of the space between them, it lets them relax enough to move through the compound.

"I wonder if they'll move to a smaller base," Sam murmurs out of the corner of his mouth, and Steve glances sideways at him. "Think the other two will emerge to talk to us? Or will this just be a really awkward hour where we maybe grab a few things we've left behind and get going?"

"Just you wait," Natasha says, folding her arms and watching Scott shooting for the coffee machine, Clint and Wanda collapsing at opposite ends of the couch, Sharon and Tony talking in low voices just outside the door, Bucky at the edge of the armchair and seemingly ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. "I have a feeling that one person in this place might be happy to see us." She smirks, but it slips away when she turns to see their confused expressions. "Oh my God, are you two really that oblivious?"

"Oblivious to what?" Sam asks, and she sighs heavily and rolls her eyes, going to join Clint on the couch, leaning against him with the kind of easy companionship they always have. Meeting Steve's eyes, he mouths _What is she talking about?_ and Steve just shrugs back at him.

Sharon finally comes to join them, bringing Tony with her, and joins Scott at the coffee machine while Tony stands against the counter with a long sigh. "You going to tell them, Carter?" he asks, and all eyes turn to look at Sharon, cradling her mug between her hands and breathing in hard.

"I'm not coming to Wakanda," she says, and several pairs of eyes go wide with surprise. "I was fired, not arrested. I will be staying here to defend this compound and the people in it in the wake of what's been going on." Meeting Steve's eyes, she adds, "I won't run away if I don't have to."

A moment of quiet, and then Steve gives her a smile. "Much as I wish you would come with us, I guess you're not going to be immediately arrested if the military sees you on American soil," he says, and she smiles. He crosses the room to hug her, and murmurs, "Peggy would be proud," to her, pretending he doesn't see the sudden shine in her eyes when they break apart.

"Tony," Natasha calls, one corner of her mouth curling up in the smirk that instills fear in men's hearts, "is Vision around?" It does make Steve feel a little better at his confusion with Natasha's sudden question that Tony also looks confused, though he nods and leaves for the depths of the compound.

It's now Scott that joins Steve and Sam, holding a coffee in one hand and a doughnut in the other, and asks, "Do you know what this is about? I know I don't know her that well but that smirk can't mean good things."

"We call it the assassin smirk," Clint puts in from the couch, and Natasha rolls her eyes at him even as she leans closer into him. "But it doesn't always mean bad things."

The coffee machine is rattling its way through enough mugs of coffee for all of them by the time Tony returns, lifting a questioning eyebrow at Natasha as Vision joins them. Wanda rockets to her feet the moment the robot walks into the room, and Steve turns to Scott as the man lets out a soft, drawn out, " _Oh_ ," of comprehension, still unsure of what exactly is going on or why Natasha and Sharon are both smiling into their coffees.

"Good morning," Vision says, pleasant as ever, as if the battle and all of the subsequent breakdown of their team never happened. He nods to Wanda, their eyes holding a gaze so intense it seems to make the room temperature rise. "Miss Maximoff."

"Vizh." And she's across the room faster than blinking, their arms around each other and their lips pressed together, and the resulting minute of explosive sound is one that, later, they'll wish they recorded to laugh at in the months to come.

"Holy shit!" Clint, gleeful.

"What the fuck?!" Bucky, wide-eyed.

"When did _this_ happen?" Tony, violently gesturing at the couple.

"How could you _not_ notice?" Sharon, rolling her eyes.

"Took them long enough, they've only been dancing around each other for a year." Natasha, eyebrow raised.

"Wait - _she_ was the distraction at the airport?!" Tony, prompting Natasha to roll her eyes once again. "Why did no one say anything?"

"Because superheroes suck at emotional communication?" Scott suggests, making both Natasha and Sharon laugh.

"Sharon knew and I didn't?" Steve, a little offended, honestly.

"She was talking about him in her sleep on the quinjet!" Sharon, frustrated.

"I told you you get too wound up in your own thoughts." Sam, grinning at Steve.

"So you're taking their side?" Steve, even more offended.

"I knew too! Nat told me." Clint, shit-eating grin firmly in place.

"I thought you were the team leader." Scott, eyes bright with mischief as he addresses Steve. "Shouldn't a team leader notice that two members of the team have massive crushes on each other?"

Sam's laughter at Steve's expense ends the kiss, but Wanda and Vision keep gazing at each other like they're the only two people in the world, seemingly oblivious to the other eight people in the room. But none of them move, making an absurd tableau in the room - none of them have ever seen Wanda or Vision smile the way they are at each other. "I love you," Wanda says, and Natasha, Sharon, Clint and Scott's smiles all grow wider, Sharon's eyes going soft and Scott giving a sigh.

Brushing her hair behind her ear in an intimate, gentle gesture that makes everyone present forget momentarily that he's a vibranium robot, Vision breathes, "I love you too," and kisses her again.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Tony says. "Let's leave the lovebirds to their melodramatic reunion. Sharon, come with me, we can talk about new security measures around the perimeter."

"Alright, we'll leave for Wakanda in forty minutes," Steve says in his most authoritative voice. "Until then, you can all explore as much as you want and take whatever personal belongings you still have here to the helicopter." Glancing at the couple as they all disperse to every corner of the compound, he smiles to himself and closes the door softly to avoid distracting them.

* * *

Morning is slowly lurching into afternoon as they head for the helicopter, the sun brighter and higher in the sky, blue rather than pearly dawn grey, and the helicopter is already half full, Bucky at the controls, Natasha and Clint examining the flight plan, Scott playing a rhythm lightly on one of the chairs. "Are you going to do that the whole way?" Natasha asks sharply, and he snaps his hands back to his sides, eyes wide. "Better."

Steve walks across the lawn next to Tony, both of them quiet, so much to say but so much neither of them wants to bring up. "We'll be in touch," Tony finally says as they reach the helicopter, Sam giving Steve a wide-eyed look as he hoists himself into the helicopter behind them. "Even if it's through T'Challa. The world still needs your skills, Rogers."

"For what it's worth, Stark, I am sorry for how this all blew up," Steve says, and Tony just shakes his head. It's too soon, the wounds still open and weeping, the media still all over the fight in a frenzy, and it might always be too soon to talk about what happened honestly. "And if you need us back, we'll be back."

Glancing over at the couple who seem to have done nothing in the past forty minutes but move their kissing from the kitchen to the hangar, Tony quips, "Good luck dragging Juliet over there into your ride," and Steve smiles faintly.

"Who am I to question young love?" he says, and Tony shrugs. "We've all been through waiting too long to have enough time with someone - as a team, we could write instructions on how to tell someone you love them when it's already too late."

"I guess if the witch and the robot can find love, there's hope for all of us," Tony remarks. He extends a hand, and Steve takes it, and the firm shake feels like a truce. "Take care of yourself, Cap."

"You too." With a respectful nod, Steve turns and calls, "Wanda! We have to go." She tears herself away, still smiling, and doesn't let go of Vision's hand until she takes Sam's for a boost into the helicopter.

"I'm going to miss you," she whispers, another private moment the other occupants of the helicopter pretend not to hear, busying themselves with other tasks. "I love you." Another kiss, and she says, "I just wish we hadn't wasted all these months."

"Wanda, not a moment I spent with you was time I will ever consider wasted," Vision says, and Steve smiles softly, seeing the same expression on the faces of the rest of his team. "This is not goodbye for long, love." One last kiss, and Bucky fires up the engine, the door closing on them, the figures of Tony, Sharon, Vision and Fury in the hangar fading into pinpoints as the helicopter rises into the sky and they begin their journey to Wakanda.

Smiling softly to herself, Wanda leans back in her chair with a sigh, and Clint remarks, "Ugh, get a room."

* * *

 **A/N:** Hope the other people who have descended into shipping these two with incredible force after  _Civil War_ or before that enjoyed this! Thank you for reading what blew up from a small headcanon I spouted on my way home from the second viewing of the film :)

 **EDIT:** Now with a sequel! [What To Expect](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6942298)


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